Page #1
The Storyteller
This diary is property of Lee Seunghyun
Page: 1
Date: 20-May-2021
I have no idea why I decided to write a diary right now when I have so many things to worry about in my life. With so many patients and voices to attend to expecting me to go and tell them, “There’s nothing unusual in your medical results, Sir”. Being a cardiologist has taken away my life and my free time and so I think, that is one of the main reasons why I’m scratching my pen over these blank sheets in this precise moment. But, is anyone even going to read this? I’m just pathetic but still I’m here, writing like a fool.
Should I introduce myself? I don’t even know how to write a diary properly. My name is Lee Seunghyun. I just graduated from Seoul Medical School specialized in cardiology. Too much a nerd to be taken seriously or to have any good friend in my life. My graduation party consisted on my grandma exlaiming at me in a joyful tone, “Well done, my boy!”, while clapping loudly and jittering around.
I just got a stable place six months prior at the Seoul National University Hospital as a resident cardiologist, one of the main reasons my life just converted into panic filled chaos. I’m responsible for a whole hospital ward where the only interesting patient is that old guy from room 400, who enjoys cross dressing parties with his toothless buddies every Wednesday afternoon. Simply great.
My life was supposed to be always breathtakingly speedy, excitement waiting for me at every corner; but the truth is that it gets more closer to the throbbing of the heart of my patients, lying weakly on those beds in front of me. A frail and slow throbbing fading away into a constantly more distant murmur every day, sneaking away from the grasp of my hands. My routinely life has come to such an extent that I’m now spending my free time in the hospital, writing over a deplorable notebook I call a diary. Me, the almighty Lee Seunghyun.
Did you know? I feel an overwhelming amount of pain named guilt because, all those patients in front of me are just so inconsistent to why I think when it comes to a terminal patient. Always more likely to live, holding on their weak heart beats. While I feel myself wasting the strong, healthy beat coming from the unreachable grasp from inside my chest. What can I do? But to fight against their illness trying to save their lives, trying to prolong their time with the ones they love, with the ones they can smile with or as I usually end up doing, helping them to have a painless death.
Yesterday, while I was having lunch while on duty, a fellow partner of mine just came to me to show me some photos of their kids. And one small disconcerting idea crept into my mind: I have no one to talk about or boast about but the new unbreakable denture I just bought for my grandma. But unfortunately talking about that would only seclude me more than I am right now. Am I boring or bitter? My fellow peers gave me a strange nickname: Cardiomaniac. Isn’t it just funny? Because I’m always carrying around, everywhere I go under my arm, a pair of cardiology books. But I don’t want to be the pathetic guy that just plays, useless and mute, with his food while the ones around him are immersed in such amazing chats. I don’t know. Don’t you feel like people sometimes have the weirdest ideas about others?
Even though, that’s how things unfold and smile for me. That’s the story of my life until this moment. I don’t know what is coming tomorrow, but I still hang on to a string of life expectation. My grandma told me once. “Seunghyun-ah, your heart is destined to greatness”. And my grandma’s words are like prophecies. So, I’m hoping for that greatness to come and show itself, until then I will continue living the way I am. 27 years have passed, but still, a lot time is in front of me... I can wait.
However, I need to stop writing, next to me are lying a heaped stack of new medical records from a group of patients that were transferred here from the Seoul Paik Hospital because of the lack of funds to retain these patients without medical insurance. It hurts me that one of them seemed to be just too young to be living this kind of pained life, to be confined to stay between four white washed walls. I decided that I wanted to live this way but probably he couldn't. What could his dreams be?, what did he want to become before?. What disturbs me the most is that yesterday when I walked in front of his bleak room, I could fainly see a bundle of messy pink hair pacing around the room. Yes! A disconcerting bright pink shade of hair shining over the always dull grayed green hospital curtains. How could this guy, even though he is sadly dying due to a heart disease, still have the gleaming optimism to have a pink head of hair?
I hate working with those types of patients, because they make me realize life is not equally as fair to all of us.
I have to go. My shift starts in 10 minutes.
Lee SH
So this might be a larger fic than the last one... cause I've got many ideas for this one.. And also, a little bit more fluff.. full of gri moments. =) But still, keep in mind the story is an angst fanfic =). Love you all... and yeahh. as how i used to do. I posted the 1 chapter right away,, cause i love you all. =)
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